


tears make kaleidoscopes in your eyes

by merthurlin



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Xehanort, Dimension Travel, M/M, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Written Pre-Kingdom Hearts III - Re Mind DLC & Limit Cut, dimension hopping as a form of therapy, sora's very deep insecurity issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26010532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merthurlin/pseuds/merthurlin
Summary: Sora snorts. “No, it chose you, silly! Riku is going to be an amazing Keyblade Master, I just know it. He is going to go on so many adventures, and be a hero!”There is no trace of envy in his voice, no malice. He sounds so excited for this Riku, so proud of him.Lonely, Riku thinks, and immediately wishes he never came to this reality, never saw this Sora, never heard him. That he never had to confront a Sora that was lonely, because that was so deeply, deeply wrong, that Riku could almost feel it as a blow between his ribs, something more terrible and painful than any Organization member could ever inflict on him.(or: when Riku tries to find Sora after the events of Kingdom Hearts 3, he finds a version he never thought could exist. They help each other.)
Relationships: Kairi & Riku (Kingdom Hearts), Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 194





	tears make kaleidoscopes in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> phew, it's done! i've been working on this little monster since december, and i finally gathered enough braincells to finish it! special thanks to cole, who has been an unflinching cheerleader.
> 
> this was obviously written pre-re:mind, so lets just not worry about it okay.

“Hey, mister? Hey, are you alright?”

Riku groans, opening his eyes and immediately shutting them again, the harsh sunlight like stab wounds in his brain. He is lying on sand he realizes, the sensation familiar if unexpected.

He can’t remember why he is lying on sand. He had dropped, hadn’t he? But it never hit him so hard, never caused him to lose consciousness before.

Wait. Wait a second.

“Sora?!” He shoots up, before almost falling over again, the movement too much for his dizzy head. Through watery, half-open eyes, he can see the familiar colour palette of Destiny Islands, the green-yellow-blue shades that have been his entire world before he turned fifteen. And right there, in front of him, is _Sora_.

Riku isn’t too far gone to realize immediately that it isn’t his Sora. He is younger, for one, the age Sora was at just before he set off on his adventure. He is still wearing the clothes he used to favour back on the islands, stained t-shirts and muddy shorts, with silly slogans and clashing colours. He also clearly doesn’t recognize Riku, which should have been alarming, but instead is kind of… relieving. Riku knew he came a long way from the Riku that this Sora would know, but it was nice to see it confirmed.

It’s just that he never saw a Sora in any of the other realities he dropped into. It was weird, because he definitely saw Roxas and Xion, and they shouldn’t exist without Sora, but he just never popped up.

Riku hasn’t seen Sora for over half a year, and it feels like an embarrassment of riches to look at him now, something too good to be true. He looks exactly like how Riku remembers him from this age, like a photograph of a moment Riku always holds close to his chest, tucked away between his ribs like the best kind of secret.

Riku has missed him _so_ much.

Sora frowns at him, and Riku has to shake himself out of it. It’s Sora, but not his Sora (not that any Sora is his Sora, _stop it_ ), and he can’t forget that. “How do you know my name?”

“I’m – eh, well – “ Riku stammers. He has always been such a terrible liar, especially to Sora. It’s why he had to cover his eyes when his body was transformed into Ansem’s.

Sora frowns harder, his round face scrunching in confusion, and something in Riku goes soft and fond. “Hang on – You look like… Riku?!”

Riku groans yet again, covering his face with his hand. It’s nice that this Sora has a Riku, but it does make his life infinitely more complicated.

“It _is_ you!” Sora laughs in delight, planting his butt in the sand next to Riku and beaming at him. “You’re back! You should have let me know you were coming back, I would have waited for you. Oh, we should get Selphie and Wakka and Tidus, get a proper party going. I bet mom would make you that Paupu cake, I know it’s your favourite, don’t even pretend –“

“Sora,” Riku cuts him off, because knowing Sora he could go on forever and while Riku couldn’t pretend he wasn’t enjoying it, it wasn’t fair to Sora to pretend he is someone he isn’t.

“Oops, sorry, I guess I got excited,” Sora smiles bashfully. “I’m just really glad you’re here Riku.”

Riku just looks at him for a moment, still trying to take him in, this image of his friend that he doesn’t know and who doesn’t know him. He looks so carefree, and it isn’t until this moment that Riku realizes how the Sora he saw the last few months — in hidden snatches of time, between exams and missions and the end of the world — how ragged that Sora looked, how tired and downtrodden. How his hands always seemed to shake just a bit when he wasn’t holding a keyblade, how his eyes constantly darted around, how his knees sometimes buckled under his own weight, an old injury that never healed properly. This Sora is miles away from that Sora, miles and worlds and realities apart, and — 

And he is frowning now, looking more closely, and Riku can tell the exact moment he realizes, because he goes rigid, and — 

“You aren’t… Riku, are you?”

* * *

Riku doesn’t think he will ever get used to dropping. The transformation from there to _not_ within a mere second, a sense of weightlessness in the bottom of his stomach, as if he was dropping from a cliff and not from one reality to the next. Every time he would remember the summer that Kairi made them try cliff diving, how both her and Sora jumped fearlessly off the edge, and how alone he felt, standing above them, unable to take that one last step. They haven’t made fun of him for it, of course – neither of them had a single mean bone in their body, and it somehow made everything worse. Had it been Riku, after all, he would have never stopped lording it over their heads.

It’s hard to remember the boy he used to be.

During the Mark of Mastery exam, when he dropped from world to world, it had been easier, because he knew that eventually his path will cross with Sora’s. That eventually his path must cross with Sora, that there is no reality in which it wouldn’t, no steps or choices he could take and make that won’t eventually lead to brown hair, blue eyes, tan skin. Dropping had been exhilarating, not terrifying, every time feeling like getting one step closer.

It was different now, because despite the countless of times he assured Kairi – and Roxas and Ventus and Xion and every single person whose lives Sora had touched – that he knew Sora was out there somewhere, and that he will find him, there wasn’t any _guarantee_. Not even Yen Sid knew for sure what Sora has done in the Keyblade Graveyard, what incredible feat of magic and bravery he pulled to save Kairi, to save all of them.

And still, Riku doesn’t regret letting him go. _Couldn’t_ regret it, because he also wanted Kairi back, wanted her safe, and it wouldn’t be Sora if he didn’t do anything he could to fulfil all of Riku’s expectations.

The only thing he regretted was not following him.

He was doing so now, he knows. Despite all of his fear and uncertainty, he was following some sort of thread, some sort of pull. He couldn’t be sure it was Sora, but any chance was a chance Riku was willing to take. And so he kept dropping.

It was so completely different from world hopping. At least most of the worlds Riku had visited followed some sort of logic, even if it was internal. They were usually small and circular, their inhabitants kind but unassuming. They had no trouble accepting otherworlders, magic smoothing their way. Those were the worlds that were made for Sora to experience, shiny and golden just like him.

The realities were Riku’s alone.

They were uncomfortable and weird. Circular, but in a confusing way, forever trying to trap their visitor in their midst. It was as if they were sentient, in a way, and knew Riku was an interloper, one not to be trusted, one not to be welcomed. Sometimes he would see familiar faces, but twisted, strange, unrecognizable to him and not recognizing him in return.

* * *

“So, you are Riku, but not _my_ Riku,” Sora summarizes. He is sitting cross-legged on the sand, facing Riku. He has been listening attentively while Riku explained, seemingly unfazed by the casual mention of magic and other worlds, and Riku wonders what this world is like, that that doesn’t throw him into a loop. 

He is also trying very hard not to fixate on Sora saying “my Riku”, with partial success.

“Yeah,” he sighs, leaning back on his hands and staring up at the sky. “Sorry to disappoint.” The wind blows softly around them, and it all feels so familiar it almost hurts — the warmth of the sun on his skin, the sounds of the waves hitting the sand, Sora breathing besides him, close and alive and safe. 

“Don’t be stupid!” Sora objects, his voice petulant. “Like you could ever be a disappointment. You look so cool grown up Riku! You got SO tall, that’s really not fair. I really like your longer hair too, it suits you.”

Riku can feel his cheeks going warm, and he knows it isn’t because of the sun, but he would like to keep his dignity and at least pretend. “Where is this reality’s Riku anyway?”

Riku isn’t looking at him as he asks that, but the minute shift in the mood around them is enough to clue him in that something isn’t right. He looks across him at Sora, who to his credit is smiling as if nothing is wrong.

Riku knows better.

“He is off to learn to be a Keyblade Master, like you! Oh, he is going to be SO jealous when I tell him I got to meet his cool older Master self.”

“Wait, so you have keyblades here?” Riku asks, curious. It wouldn’t be the first reality he visited that also had keyblades, but it was relatively rare.

Sora nodded vigorously. “Yeah! And different worlds and stuff. Well, most people don’t know about them, but Riku told me before he left because he is pants at keeping things secret,” Sora smiles at him. “Like you.”

“Shut up,” Riku grumbles.

“It took you like, less than a minute to tell me you’re from a different reality, though I bet you aren’t supposed to,” Sora teases, laughing when Riku flushes. He is right, of course – Yen Sid stressed over and over again that he should absolutely never, under any circumstances, tell people about the existence of other realities.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up,” Riku grouses, but is unable to completely prevent a smile. “We will see if you will be laughing when reality collapses around us.”

Sora waves him off. “Eh, I’m sure you are more than up to handle it, Mr. Keyblade Master Sir.”

It is supposed to be a joke – it is so obviously supposed to be a joke, teasing and fond, like they’ve always done, and yet. And yet. There is something off about Sora’s tone, something that doesn’t fit in, and Riku’s unease continues to grow. It feels like how he felt the last few months before the storm, twisted inside and so desperate to pretend he wasn’t.

Every reality always feels wrong. Clearly this isn’t going to be an exception, even if Sora is here.

* * *

There was one reality, near the beginning, where he ran into Kairi. He was still desperate, still running off the fumes of the final battle, and she was still missing, just like Sora. He had been overjoyed to see her, almost bursting into tears, exhaustion and fear playing havoc with his emotions.

She asked him if he was trying to sell her something.

She had been a student, in that reality. Older than the Kairi he remembered, and infinitely less welcoming. They weren’t on Destiny Islands, but in a city that reminded him of the few selfies Sora had sent from San Francsokyo, tall buildings made of glass and steel, with seemingly no path between them they were so close. As far as he could tell, neither her nor Sora existed in this reality, and Kairi was on her own, lonely and jaded.

Despite himself, Riku had spent a few days with her. She didn’t ask him to, and certainly didn’t seem to welcome it, but Riku ached at the sight of his best friend looking so weary, so _angry_. He wasn’t like Sora, who tended to put his friends on a pedestal from which it felt so easy to fall (Riku would know). He never thought Kairi was perfect, was more than aware that she can be selfish and petty, with a sense of humour that could turn sharp in an instant. But this Kairi was wrong in a way his Kairi never was, and maybe it was self-absorbed to think it was because she didn’t have a Sora and a Riku to temper her edges, didn’t have Selphie and Tidus and Wakka to surround her with laughter and mock sword fights and treats shared under a setting sun, but.

Himself was all he had to give, and to Kairi, he would give as much as he could.

Eventually, he had to move on. He could feel the reality closing in on him, trapping him, and as much as he wanted to help Kairi, he couldn’t risk it. There were people who were relying on him. He couldn’t let them down.

He was more careful, after that first run-in. He would avoid faces he recognized, even places he recognized. He stuck to the shadows, only staying in each reality for long enough to determine that Sora wasn’t there before moving on to the next one.

And then Kairi showed up on Destiny Islands.

His gummiphone worked intermittently throughout the realities. After awhile he determined that the closer a reality was to his own – the more people or places he knew, the more familiar everything felt – the stronger the single was. And it was in one of those familiar (but not too familiar) realities that he received a message from Ienzo.

“Kairi is back. Waiting for you on DI.”

And how could Riku do anything but go back?

She had been in tears when she saw him. “I was so sure,” she sobbed out into his chest, “He was right behind me, I swear, I thought we were all gonna finally go home together— “

He hugged her, awkward at first and warmer as the seconds ticked by. He remembered that other Kairi, and could only be grateful that this Kairi hasn’t learned to hide her emotions, even if they were painful. Especially if they were painful.

“Hey, hey,” he eventually said, easing her away from him so he could look her in the eyes. She blinked at him, her eyes still wet, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at her, a face he recognized almost as well as his own. Seemingly despite herself, her lips also quirked up in half a smile. “Since when has Sora ever been on time? He will get here.”

They waited. For weeks, they waited. They avoided their families, their friends. They deleted messages from their gummiphones, ignored requests for meeting up at so and so world. “Sora is someone worth waiting for,” Kairi had said at some point, and Riku had agreed at the time, so sure that wherever Kairi would go, Sora would follow. That’s how it always went, didn’t it?

(There was a part of him that was relieved to not have to go through the different realities again. He was always so _so_ scared of what he was going to find.)

It was Kairi that said that maybe waiting wasn’t enough. “It isn’t fair,” she declared, the two of them sitting on the treehouse that they have long since outgrown. “We keep waiting for him to come for us. Maybe it’s time we go to him.”

Riku had wanted to protest – he had come for Sora in the sleeping worlds, didn’t he? – but he understood what Kairi was saying. They have waited for long enough.

Where Riku was going, Kairi couldn’t follow. The realities would not accommodate a Princess of Heart, no matter that she was also a Keyblade wielder.

“Realities should not be tempered with,” Yen Sid had said in his gravelly voice. “They have always been separated and should stay that way, lest they start collapsing unto each other. The power of a Princess of Heart is one that connects – you would prove to be a disruptive element.”

Riku had to grasp Kairi’s wrist before she could prove to Yen Sid exactly how _disruptive_ she could be. Yen Sid might be right, but Kairi was done with waiting, done with other people deciding what she could and could not do, and Riku was so proud of her. A little bit ashamed, too. He and Sora had a lot to answer to.

No one dared to mention that Sora’s powers have also always relied on his connections. No one wanted to think about what that might mean for him.

Eventually, after a lot of discussions and yelling, she had decided to go meet with Ventus in The Land of Departure. She had told Riku before about the strange creature that she met with Sora before she came back, calling itself Chirithi, and how it had mentioned Ventus before sending them on their way. Ventus had also been in Sora’s heart for so long, he might still have some connection to it. It was a good place to begin.

Riku would go back to dropping.

They had stayed in touch sporadically since then, when his gummiphone permitted him. From The Land of Departure she went to Twilight Town to touch base with Roxas, and from there to Radiant Garden, where Ienzo was still doing his research. She was no longer alone, however – that girl from Twilight Town, Olette? Joining her. Riku wasn’t too certain about the details, but he was glad Kairi wasn’t alone. She wasn’t meant to be alone.

Almost two months after setting off for the second time, Riku found himself in Destiny Islands.

* * *

Sora takes him on a tour of the islands. Riku had protested, saying everything looks the same and surely he doesn’t need a tour of his home world, but Sora insisted, saying Riku couldn’t possibly know everything was the same if he didn’t see it all, right?

Riku was good at many things, but saying no to Sora had never been one of them, especially not when he directed the full force of his smile at him. Honestly, he is still feeling a little bit dazed.

Sora takes him everywhere he can think of: the ice-cream shop down the street that “sells the best Pistachio ice-cream, and I know that’s your favorite Riku!.” After that comes the new surf shop that just opened up, where Sora suggests he should race Riku, just to “make sure you haven’t forgotten how to be an island boy,” with a teasing tone in his voice. There is the little antique shop down the corner, which his Sora got banned from in sixth grade for accidentally breaking a precious heirloom, and which he always convinced Riku to go in for him and tell him about the most cursed object he could find. There is the library and the community center and the storefront that has been abandoned for years but used to be a liquor store. All those places and all those memories, and something still feels deeply, deeply wrong.

It isn’t till they get to the highschool that Riku finally realizes what it is.

Sora is in the middle of some story — something convoluted involving their old science teacher, a cat, and three litres of flammable liquid — when Riku catches on.

“Wait,” he says, before Sora can take another breath to continue telling him a story that Riku really hopes doesn’t end with a cat going up in flames, “you still go to school?”

Sora blinks at him, nonplussed. “Yeah? Duh? C’mon Riku, were you listening at all?”

And Riku hasn’t been, not really. He missed Sora more than anything, but Sora was so bad at telling stories — he would go on long winded tangents, completely forgetting where he was in the story and would often have to start from the beginning, and while it was endearing, Riku had long taught himself to tune most of it out, catching the important bits.

Not like he managed it this time though, he thinks bitterly. He hasn't caught the most important bit of it all.

“You— aren’t you also training to be a Keyblade Master?”

Sora laughs, and it doesn’t sound right at all. “What? Why would I be training to be a Keyblade Master?”

Now it is Riku’s turn to stare at him, nonplussed. “Because… because it chose you?” he asks hesitantly, still unsure of what exactly is going on.

Sora snorts. “No, it chose _you_ , silly! Riku is going to be an amazing Keyblade Master, I just know it. He is going to go on so many adventures, and be a hero!”

There is no trace of envy in his voice, no malice. He sounds so excited for this Riku, so proud of him. 

Lonely, Riku thinks, and immediately wishes he never came to this reality, never saw this Sora, never heard him. That he never had to confront a Sora that was lonely, because that was so deeply, deeply wrong, that Riku could almost feel it as a blow between his ribs, something more terrible and painful than any Organization member could ever inflict on him. 

“So he just— left you?” he can tell he is staring, his face losing whatever color a day in Destiny Islands’ sun has afforded him, but he can’t even begin to mask his emotions, can’t pretend to be nonchalant about it. 

“He didn’t leave _me_ ,” Sora protests. “He just— y’know, left the islands. Cause he is going to be a hero! He can protect people, like he always protected— “

“You,” Riku finishes, something hot and ugly rising in him. “Is that why you’re—” but he can’t complete the sentence, can’t say it out loud, not yet, so instead: “How did it even happen, anyway? How did he learn about the keyblades?”

“This guy came to the islands. I thought he looked _super_ suspicious, but Riku thought he looked cool,” Sora explains, and Riku cringes, not sure if he is prepared to hear how his alternate self is apparently also prone to trusting any random person he finds. “Riku told me to stay back, so I didn’t really hear what they were talking about, but I think Riku impressed him, cause like two days later Riku climbed into my window and told me he was leaving on a super secret mission.”

Riku groans. “He just decided to leave with a total stranger?”

Sora laughs. “That’s what I said! I wouldn’t let him leave the room until he told me everything, so that’s when he told me about the different worlds and the _keyblades_ and that he was gonna be a hero. He said this guy sees potential in him, and that he reminded him of himself? I think Riku was super flattered, even though he pretended not to be. You are so stupid sometimes, Riku,” he says fondly. He starts walking again, making his way across the abandoned school grounds and into the building, tracing a familiar path to the roof.

“Hey, you can’t know that we are the same,” Riku protests half-heartedly as he follows, though he knows the half-smile on his face betrays him.

“Of course I know,” Sora waves him off. The sky is growing dark by now, twilight on the horizon, and from experience he knows that the mild wind that has followed them the entire day is going to turn cold and sharp soon. Everything seems so alien in its mundanity, a half-forgotten life that Riku never truly thought he could go back to. They climb silently up the back staircase leading to the third floor, and when they reach the door leading to the roof Sora expertly jiggles the knob in exactly the right way to open it, the way they have discovered in third grade.

Sora leads the way to the edge of the rooftop. It is fenced in, and he leans on that barrier now, staring out into the view of Destiny Islands settling in for the night.

“How?” Riku asks, when it becomes clear Sora wouldn’t continue. “For all you know I could be totally different from the Riku you know. I definitely came about my keyblade very differently. You’ve only known me for a day.”

 _‘He left you and I would never have‘_ he wants to say, but that would also be a lie, wouldn’t it?

Sora looks at him now, his blue eyes darker now, almost reflecting the navy blue sky above. There is something serious about him at that moment, something Goofy and Donald and the King wouldn’t have recognized. It was the same look he gave him when they were four and they pinky-promised to never have ice-cream without the other. The same look at age eight, nine, eleven, thirteen. 

The same look right before the crescendo of the storm, that final night on the islands, when Sora reached out his hand and Riku reached back.

“You laugh the same,” Sora finally says, his voice soft but his eyes piercing. “Kinda like you’re embarrassed of laughing at all, but also relieved that you can let it out. I know that Riku… he is really proud, you know? He always wants to be the strongest, the best. But he doesn’t want other people to know that. And it’s _so_ dumb, because he should know that he doesn’t have to pretend with me.”

‘You’re so easy to read Riku,’ Kairi had teased him once, years ago. He doesn’t really remember the context anymore — he thinks she might have gotten a higher grade than he did, and he was disgruntled over it — but he remembers the fear that went through him at hearing that, the utter terror. He had too much to hide to ever fully relax after that.

Sora is still looking at him, the same serious look on his face, but softer now, sadder. “See? You’re still… you look so scared now. If I was really a stranger— if you were a stranger to _me_ — you wouldn’t look so scared.”

“I’m not— “ Riku starts to protest, because he isn’t scared, not anymore. He is just— 

“I know, I know,” Sora cuts him off. “You are different than this Riku. I can see that too. You are more… relaxed. Less guarded. You let me see you making silly faces, and you don’t mind if I poke fun of you. You don’t tense up when I do! It’s been so long since I could see all sides of you. I don’t think I realized that until today.”

Riku closes his eyes, pained. “A… lot of things happened. I’m not the same.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Riku can’t see, but he can almost feel Sora nodding, the displacement of air besides him. “But you still laugh the same. I don’t think that can change.”

It was a nice thought, that despite it all, there is something about himself that is inherently knowable to Sora, every Sora. That maybe it’s true in return. That maybe someday, weeks or months or years from now, Riku will see Sora, and will recognize his best friend.

But still — 

“You think I’ve only changed for— for the better. You’re saying I’m less guarded, but you don’t know about all the decisions I’ve made. All of my stupid mistakes.” And he doesn’t know why he is insisting, but it feels crucial, in that moment, to make sure Sora knows he isn’t any better than the Riku he knows, just one who made different mistakes. That this reality’s Riku also made a mistake.

Sora snorts. “So what? I bet you made a lot of really good decisions too. I bet you’ve done a lot of really great things too! You don’t have to be perfect. No one wants you to be. I don’t need you to be. You just need to be silly and dumb and brave and my best friend.”

“He did leave you,” Riku forces past a suddenly tight throat. “You— you think his place is out there somewhere, learning to be a keyblade master and a hero, but it _isn’t_. It will—it will all go wrong if you aren’t there.”

Sora turns away from the edge, a concerned look on his face. “Riku —“

“I have to fix it,” Riku cuts him off, suddenly panicked. It isn’t his world, isn’t his reality, isn’t his Sora or his problem, but he is suddenly so sure that if he doesn’t _fix this_ , then something awful will happen. 

He summons his keyblade in a flash, ignoring Sora’s startled shout.

“Wha—“

“I’m going to fix this,” Riku repeats, aiming his keyblade at the sky and opening a portal. He has never tried to navigate between worlds in a different reality before, but there was no reason it should be different. Even if he gets lost, his heart will show him the right way.

“Wait –“ a hand clutches at his arm, the fingers tight with panic. He looks at his side, at Sora, and instinctively knows –

“I’ll be back,” he assures him quietly, his gaze serious. “Sora, I swear, I’m coming back. And if I have anything to say about it, he will be coming back too.”

“I – there is nothing to fix,” Sora insists, but his voice sounds lost, unsure.

Riku looks at him, and says: “It’s because you think that that I know there is something I need to fix.”

* * *

Riku’s memory is terrible. It always has been – he would forget directions, dates, even people’s names. Someone once joked that if not careful, he might one day forget his own name – he didn’t even remember who said that.

That is not to say that his memory was equally bad with any kind of information. Riku has always had exceptional memory for his mistakes and failures: every test he hadn’t scored on as expected, every ball game his team lost, every recipe he didn’t make quite right. Every mean word he has ever said to Kairi and Sora, every slightly cruel joke, tasteless remark.

The look on Sora’s face when he saw him at Hollow Bastion –

The point is. The point is that Riku doesn’t remember realizing he was in love with Sora.

It must have been before high school. Must have been, because he distinctly remembers being dizzy with the knowledge during their first year, a sick feeling in his stomach every time the concept of girlfriends or boyfriends was raised in conversation. He remembers Sora’s disappointed face when he snapped at him that high school was too old for sleepovers, the same sick feeling wavering between guilt and relief.

He could be romantic and say that he was always in love with Sora, but that seemed most embarrassing and impossible. Riku at five, eight, twelve had no idea what being in love even meant, nor had he any interest in it. It was enough playing with Sora and Kairi on the beach, enough having sleepovers and ice-cream and little kid adventures. Things like romance and love were relegated to the books Tidus would read, with heroic knights and damsels in distress, though whenever he wanted to play out those stories both Selphie and Kairi absolutely refused to play the parts of the latter.

(Years later, when Riku looked down at Kairi’s unconscious face, he reflected on how very ill-suited she fit the role. Princess – yes, maybe. But she should have been so much more than that.)

But throughout all of it, Sora, like a constant. It was why he was so desperate to believe Maleficent and her lies – the idea that Sora might not be there one day was so painful he would have done literally anything he could to distance himself with it. She was wrong, of course, about so many things – Sora and Ansem and Riku himself – but she was most wrong about the reason he feared Sora would be lost to him. She would whisper Kairi’s name to him, believing it was a juvenile case of jealousy and –

That wasn’t it at all, was it? Because Riku knew Sora better than he knew anything else in his life, and he always knew what a large heart Sora had, how many it could hold. And Riku hadn’t wanted to taint it, with his doubts and insecurities. He knew that even if he confessed Sora would have never held it against him, would have never ever mocked him or been disgusted by him or anything like that, but he was so _so_ afraid of it changing, even just a little bit.

So maybe Riku hasn’t always been in love with Sora, but there was no past or present or future he could have imagined where he could live without him, and in the long run, that was much of the same, wasn’t it?

* * *

The Land of Departure looks the same. Riku doesn’t know if he expected it to look different, but he still breathes a sigh of relief as he touches down on the ground, his keyblade shifting back from the glider into its regular shape. He dismisses it casually as he makes his way to the castle, thinking wryly that the place looked a lot more welcoming like that than when it was twisted in the shape of Castle Oblivion.

He isn’t sure what to expect, really – Sora had known very little of what was going on in the outside world, and the visit of Terra (or, at least, who Riku thought was Terra) to Destiny Islands only a year or so ago definitely pointed at things being very different than what Riku knows. He hopes he isn’t about to find out that in this reality Keyblade Masters are actually the _bad_ guys or something. That would seriously suck.

Of course, his presence seems to have aroused some sort of an alarm bell, because there is light in the castle’s entrance and a tall, imposing figure waiting for him.

“Aqua,” he says when he is close enough to make out her shape.

She frowns at him, giving him a quick look over and then a slower one once she realizes what she is seeing. “This is a poor disguise – Riku is not nearly this tall yet.”

Riku huffs out a laugh. “Give him a few years.”

“You’re from the future?” she raises an eyebrow. “That’s impossible. The time axis cannot repeat itself.”

Riku has some opinions about that, mostly related to whatever happened in the Keyblade Graveyard, but this wasn’t the time nor the place. “Not exactly. I can explain, promise, but could you get Terra first? I need to ask him something.”

Aqua crosses her arms, clearly not willing to let him in without more explanations. As his eyes adjust to the dim light brought on by the castle and the stars above, he can see that she looks older than the Aqua he remembers. Granted, he hasn’t known her for long, but this Aqua definitely had more lines around her mouth and nose, evidence of past laughter and frowns. Less scars, though – none of the silvery lines the Aqua he knows has all over her arms and legs, evidence of ten years of fighting and surviving in the Realm of Darkness.

Terra in Destiny Islands, Aqua seemingly not having spent ten years cast adrift. Could that mean –

“Aqua?” a questioning voice calls behind her, and Riku can see she tenses further at the sound. “Everything alright?”

“Stay back Ven,” she calls, her eyes not leaving Riku for a moment.

Ven, true to his character, does not in fact stay back but comes behind Aqua, his eyes squinting at the darkness beyond the poarch. “Riku?”

Ven is perhaps a bigger revelation than Aqua — no longer a perpetual teen, this Ventus is ten years older, taller and bulkier. Still the same basic lines, but drawn on, expanded upon, the way the Ventus Riku knew never had a chance to. So this really is — 

“I _am_ Riku,” he answers, making sure to keep his body language open and casual. “Just not the one you know. Can I come in?”

Aqua opens her mouth, probably to refuse, when Ven shrugs and says: “Sure.”

The inside is exactly how Riku remembers it, from the few pit stops he has done between his travels. Terra too, when he joins them: all tall and bulky and ten years older and a hundred years younger, no trace of past mistakes and regrets in his eyes. He eyes Riku suspiciously, like Aqua does, but there is no outright hostility in them, the way it would undoubtedly manifest in the versions Riku knows, ten years of battle scars showing themselves.

They settle in the library, Riku in an armchair and all three sharing a sofa. They are clearly keeping him away from something, taking a circular route throughout the castle, and after a moment Riku understands why: the students. There must be more students than just his other self. How many, he wonders. How many that in his reality will never get the chance?

The explanation he gives this time is smoother than the one he gave to Sora. He can go in more depth, with three other keyblade wielders, can explain the theory and means by which he travels. Ventus and Terra seem fascinated by it, and even Aqua has a look of amazement about her.

“I didn’t even think this theory was possible,” she murmurs. “It has been debated in the texts, but…”

“Master Eraqus seemed to think it was a fairytale,” Ventus added before smiling wryly. “Even more so than the Keyblade Wars”

Riku tenses at that. The Keyblade War is a fairytale in this world, huh?

“It’s too dangerous,” Terra finally says, frowning. “You could get stuck, lose yourself. You could damage the reality borders irreparably, all to, what? Test a theory? Find adventure?” 

Riku bristles at that, because there is something accusing in his tone, something parently disappointing, and this Terra doesn’t know anything about him, about darkness, his or Riku’s, and he doesn’t get to lecture about responsibility. “I’m looking for someone.”

“Someone else is dropping between realities?” Ventus asks, startled.

“He was lost. Sacrificed himself to end the Keyblade War,” and he emphasizes that, deliberately not looking at Terra. “I’m going to bring him back.”

“A war?!” Aqua, this time, her face shocked. Terra and Ventus beside her don’t look much better. “It can’t be, there hasn’t been a Keyblade War since ancient times.”

Finally time to get some answers. “You know anyone named Xehanort?”

Ventus and Terra frown, but Aqua sucks in a breath. “Master Eraqus… He told me about him, once.”

“Yeah?” Riku says, intrigued. He knew about Eraqus only in the vaguest of senses, knew how he failed so utterly, both his students and the world.

She frowns in though. “They were students, together. Not here, but a different world, before Master Eraqus opened his school here. The Master respected Xehanort, but they didn’t agree about certain things, though Master Eraqus never elaborated. He didn’t really tell me any details, just that Xehanort fell to darkness, and Master Eraqus was forced to stop him. He looked… very sad.”

Xehanort, stopped before he could do so much harm. To the three in front of him, but also to this world’s Riku, Sora. Kairi, presumably still living in a never-fallen Radiant Garden. So many worlds, thriving here, because one man killed his best friend. 

(And that’s another puzzle piece, slotting into place. A Sora without a Kairi — of course he would be lonely.)

“That… makes sense,” Riku nods slowly. “I won’t go into details — it doesn’t matter,” he adds at Aqua’s glare. “You don’t need to know everything, because it isn’t relevant here. Xehanort is gone, and without him… So much is different. So much is better.”

“He hurt you,” Ventus says softly, his blue eyes piercing, and a puzzle piece finally falls into place. No Xehanort means no χ-blade, no trauma to separate Ventus into Ventus and Vanitas, no broken heart seeking a place of refuge in Sora’s heart. But no, he can’t think about it yet— 

“He hurt a lot of people,” Riku corrects him, because his tragedy was of his own making, and Xehanort had very little to do with it. “I’m glad he never got the chance to hurt you, here.”

Aqua still looks mutinous, and Riku sympathizes, he does. If it was him, if he was talking to someone who knew of horrific things that could happen to Sora and Kairi, he would want to know too, would yell and rage until he was told, but those version are so unburdened, and Riku selfishly wants to keep them this way.

Ventus, probably realizing the same, quickly asks: “So who is this that you’re looking for? We know pretty much every Keyblade Wielder there is, we could probably help you search for them.”

Right. “He isn’t a wielder here,” Riku says, and despite himself a note of incredulity comes out in his voice. “In my reality, he saved all the worlds numerous times, pushed back the darkness time and time again, but here... Here you took me and not him, and I don’t understand _how_.”

“What?” Terra looks at him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“ _Sora_ ,” and the name feels almost like it is ripped away from him. “Does Riku not talk about him? Is he that much of an _idiot_?”

“Hey,” and now Terra looks mad, but Riku couldn’t care less. “Don’t speak of my student like this —“

“Riku’s best friend, right?” Ventus cuts in, ignoring Terra. “Riku talks a lot about him.”

“Good,” Riku almost spits out, but reigns himself in. It’s the brat he is mad at, not Aqua or Ven, not even Terra. How could they possibly know how brilliantly Sora shines, when it seems Riku is still happy to ignore it?

Ventus is still looking at him with that too perceptive stare. “It seems like something you want to talk with this Riku about,” he says softly, smiling. 

“ _No_ ,” Terra protests. “We have no idea — “

“He’s Riku,” Ventus cuts him off, unrelenting. It’s good to see him like this, older and wiser and self-assured, completely certain of his place that is equal with his friends. “I don’t think he’s going to hurt himself.”

“We don’t know that Ven,” Terra insists, frowning. “You know Riku has been struggling with—“ and now he cuts himself off, throwing Riku an uncertain stare.

Right. Of course he is. Riku sighs. “Struggling with darkness? I can probably help with that too.”

Terra’s frown slides into something more suspicious, but Ventus just grins and claps his hands together. “Perfect! See? A learning opportunity. You’re the one who always tells the students to seek out knowledge anywhere they can.”

The two engage in a staring contest for an entire minute before Aqua huffs, frustration and affection blending together in her voice. “Fine, we’ll let you meet him. But we aren’t leaving you two alone.”

Before Riku can protest — he doubts that this Riku will want them to hear everything he is about to dump on him — Ventus breaks the staring contest to say: “What Aqua means to say is that we will be staying outside of the room but definitely within shouting distance.”

Aqua rolls her eyes but smiles a fond smile. “Fine.”

Terra sighs but leans over to ruffle Ventus’ hair. “We all know who really runs things around here.”

Ventus beams at them both. “And don’t you forget it!”

* * *

“So you are me, from the future?” 

The Riku that Ven escorts to him is like looking at a broken, jagged mirror. The angles are all wrong, the shapes are all distorted, but it’s still clearly him. Riku would have thought it would have been painful to look at a version of himself who hasn’t committed all of his mistakes, but it’s not… that. It isn’t painful, but it’s not comfortable either.

It’s the universe saying ‘here is a boy who chose a different path, but lost Sora anyway.’

“A future, anyway,” Riku answers him, still trying to fit all of his pieces together. “Things turned out a bit different for me.”

“Yeah?” Other him — and wow, this is going to get confusing — crossed his arms. Riku knew exactly what he looks like when he is trying not to let on how impressed he is by something, and feels a stab of embarrassment for the teen in front of him. “You’re a Master though, right? You feel like Master Terra and Aqua.”

‘But not Ven, huh?’ Riku almost quipps back, but bites his tongue. Those people don’t know him. He can’t joke around with them like that. “I am, yeah. Passed my exam about a year ago.” This Riku did not need to know the circumstances. 

“Are you here to train me, then?” the eagerness is almost shining out of him, and Riku remembers what it was like, wanting someone to look at him and see something special. 

Despite himself, Riku finds himself smirking. “Nah. This is more of the ‘getting to know yourself through meeting other versions of you’ kind of thing.”

Younger him gives him a puzzled frown. “What are you talking about?”

Right. No nobodies in this reality, probably no replicas either. His heart gives a pang. “Never mind. Call it a reality traveling joke.”

“You’re so weird,” younger Riku gives him a look. “Are you sure you're me?”

“I guess you just grow up to be a weird person.”

“Sora would love that —“ he cuts himself off, a weird look fleeting quickly on his face. 

Now it’s Riku’s turn to cross his arms. “So about Sora.” He stops there, unsure where to even begin.

Predictably, younger him gets worried. Even more predictably, his worry manifests as accusing anger. “What did you do to Sora?!”

Riku gives him an incredulous look. “Me? I didn’t do anything. I wasn’t the one that _left_.” Not entirely true, of course. Riku has left Sora many, many times. But _never_ without knowing Sora was going to follow him.

Younger him looks nonplussed. “What?”

“You just left him behind, all alone on Destiny Islands. What were you even _thinking_?” and Riku can feel himself getting angrier and angrier but he reigns it in, knowing that if he devolves into shouting Aqua and Terra would be on him faster than he could get a Barrier spell up. “You know Sora. You know he doesn’t do well alone. And yet you still left him.”

“What are you talking about? He isn’t alone. He has his mom, and Tiddus and Wakka and Selphie. He has tons of friends, he doesn’t need...“ the sentence trails off, but Riku knows how it would have ended as if he was the one to say it. The jealousy dripping from every word would have been enough of a hint even if Riku hadn’t lived through this himself.

“Fuck, we really are the same person,” Riku mutters to himself before leveling his younger self with a look. “Listen up, because I had to learn this the _very hard way_ but you get to have someone just tell it to you — Sora is not replacing you, Sora does not want to replace you, Sora in fact would rather lock himself in the Realm of Darkness just so that he won’t have to replace you.”

He can see his younger self mouthing the words ‘realm of darkness’ in confusion and really just about despairs of this reality’s naivete. “It doesn’t matter, just — trust me. Sora is not doing well without you.”

What would it have been like, to be fifteen and in love and have someone tell that to him? Would it have changed anything? Because Riku remembers his total conviction in the reality he saw, the one where Sora was outgrowing him and so he, too, could try to outgrow Sora. How absolutely stupid.

Clearly this Riku is also not reacting well to this declaration. “I thought you were going to tell me something about _myself_ , not about _Sora_ ,” he snaps back, angry.

Riku groans. “I _am_ telling you something about yourself, you little idiot,” he says.. “I am telling you that one day you’re going to go back to Destiny Islands, and you’re going to look at Sora and realise you don’t recognize him anymore. And it’s going to be the worst feeling in your entire life.” Because it had been, for him, once he managed to snap back from Ansem’s control. And again, later, when Sora looked at him in Ansem’s body and recognized him, and Riku looked back and saw a boy two years removed from his memories.

“My life is more than just Destiny Islands. I always knew that! And then Terra came and told me it is, so what — I was supposed to stay for Sora? He wanted me to go too!”

Riku wants to take him by his shoulders and shake him. “Of course he did!” he almost shouts instead, still mindful of where they are and who is in their vicinity. “It’s Sora! He was probably more excited than even you were, right? And he probably never once asked if he could go with, or if you would teach him magic, or anything like that. Because he knows you better than you know yourself, knows how important it is for you, knows how important it is for you to be the one _chosen,_ as if that has any meaning _.”_

His younger self rears back as if he was slapped. “Of course it matters! Being a Keyblade Wielder is important, and you have to be — “

“Special, right?” Riku asks, almost mockingly. 

His younger self glares at him. “If you’re here to pick a fight — “

It is then that Riku realises how his body is positioned: one leg in front of him, his arms ready to summon his weapon. And as satisfying as it would be to kick this brat’s ass and hopefully beat some common sense into him, Riku knows himself. Since when has self-flagellation ever helped him understand anything?

Consciously, he makes himself relax and takes a step back. “Sorry, I wasn’t… No, I’m not going to fight you.” He sees his younger self give him a suspicious glare. “Terra and Aqua promised to kick my ass if I do, don’t worry.”

“Could they?” 

“Hmm…” Riku considers it. The versions he knows — yes, absolutely. But the people here, who don’t know darkness the way he does? “Hard to tell. It definitely won’t be a fun fight. They’re strong.”

“But so are you,” and for the first time since their conversation began, Riku could tell his younger self was honestly appraising him closely. “The very hard way, huh?”

Riku snorts. “The hardest,” he agrees. He considers, for a second, and then relents. “I was also _chosen_ by the keyblade. But… some things happened, and it decided I wasn’t worthy of it anymore, and chose a different wielder. It took me a while to earn the right to wield it again.” 

“Who did it choose?”

Riku gives him an incredulous stare. “Sora, of course. You can’t tell me you never had the thought, right?”

His younger self flinches. “I don’t — “

Riku presses on. “You must have. You know Sora has the biggest heart out of anyone you know. You couldn’t have looked at Ventus and not wondered what it would be like if Sora had a keyblade. What kind of a Master he could be.”

Because that’s the truth of it, isn’t it? Even without Riku’s darkness, even without Ventus’ heart in him, without Kairi being at his side — Sora was always going to be amazing. It’s just that in Riku’s reality he got the chance to grow into it.

“Why does it always have to be about Sora?” his younger self asks bitterly. “It chose me, didn’t it? You might have lost the right to it, but I didn’t. And I don’t care what you say — Sora belongs in Destiny Islands and I just _don’t_. That’s all there is to it.”

Riku gapes at him. “Is that what you really think? That Sora doesn’t matter?”

“Of course he matters — “ he starts to snap back instinctively before stopping himself. Riku looks at him as he takes in a breath, and then another. “You… saw him then?”

“Yeah,” Riku sighes. “He is fucking miserable.”

“He told you — “

“Of course not,” Riku snorts. “When has that dumbass ever told anyone if he felt bad? But he can’t hide it from me.”

His younger self looks at him. “You’re still close? In your… reality, or whatever.”

How to even start explaining? “We weren’t, for a time. I made some stupid mistakes, and he had to go fix them. And then a lot of other things happen and — whatever, it’s a long story. But I — “ _I waited an entire lonely year for him. I became my worst self to save him. I ate his nightmares and reached the deepest corners of his heart._ “Yeah. We’re still close.”

“Then why isn’t he here?” he demands. “You’re giving me so much shit for leaving him behind, but haven’t you also left him?”

Riku would really like to kick this kid. “I’m searching for him,” he snaps. “He’s missing.”

Immediately, his younger self’s stance changes. “Missing? What happened to him?”

“Believe me, you are not ready for that conversation,” Riku says, and risks his arm to reach forward and ruffle the younger boy’s hair. “Don’t worry — I will find him.”

It unfurls in him, like a flower seeing the light for the first time after a long period of darkness, the strength of his conviction: he will find Sora. There is no world or reality or timeline where that isn’t true, no version of Riku that is going to live his life without Sora by his side. 

Predictably, the younger Riku slaps his hand away and steps back. “Who’s worried?”

“Right,” Riku rolls his eyes. “We’ve established you don’t care.” What was he even hoping to achieve with this conversation? He knows better than anyone how set in his ways he was at this age, how absurdly arrogant he was. Was he even any better, thinking he could change it with a few sentences? Still the same arrogance. 

Still, the chasm inside of him that was opened when he first saw Sora was filling, little by little. He may not be able to give him back his friend, but — 

Once upon a time, he had made a choice, and Sora had ended up with a keyblade. Here, he can make a choice again.

“Hey, wait!” he hears behind him as he turns to leave. “Where are you going?”

He turns his head back just a bit to look at the boy he used to be. He can’t make him understand in one night the things it took Riku years to realise. Maybe he shouldn’t, even if he could. This Riku isn’t him, and he should be allowed to make his own choices and mistakes, forge his own path. It might have been a mistake to come here, but Riku couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. There are many things people could say about him, but Riku had always strived to fix his mistakes.

“You may be too much of a chicken shit to face him, but I’m not.” He walks off ignoring the other’s yells behind him. When he reaches where Terra, Aqua and Ventus were waiting, clearly trying and failing not to look like they were eavesdropping, he stops.

“Good talk?” Ventus asks him, grinning.

“Probably more for me than for him,” Riku admits. “Sorry, I think I might have said too much.”

“I told you — “ 

“Was it stuff he needed to hear?” Ventus cuts Terra off.

“Maybe,” Riku allows. “I don’t know how much of a difference it will make, but… that’s up to him, now. He has his own path to follow.”

“Wow, you really grew up Riku!” Ventus grins at him. It’s so unlike Ventus’ grin in his reality, the one that looks like Sora’s, that Riku almost forgets to smile back.

“Listen,” he says after a moment. “I’m going to head off now but I might as well give you a heads up — you’re going to get a new student soon.”

“You shouldn’t interfere — “ Aqua starts, before sighing. “You’re going to do it no matter what I say.”

“Yeah,” Riku agrees, not even a little bit sorry. “Don’t worry Aqua, you’re going to love him as your student.”

Aqua looks at him curiously. “Mine?”

“He should still have an affinity to magic,” Riku shrugs. “He will catch on quick.” He then turns to Ventus again. “Have you ever been to Radiant Garden?”

Ventus blinks at the non-sequitur. “Eh, once, I think?”

“You should go again,” Riku suggests. “See the sights, eat some local food — have you ever tried sea-salt ice-cream?”

“That sounds disgusting,” Ventus makes a face.

“You would think. It’s pretty good.”

“Any particular reason for Radiant Garden?” Ventus asks, curious.

“Terra clearly got a protege, Aqua is about to get hers — “ he ignores Aqua’s noise of dissent. “You might as well find one too.”

“You have someone in mind, I guess.”

Riku grins at him. “I think you’ll figure it out when you see her.” It should be impossible to miss Kairi’s potential — Princess of Heart or not, she should still shine like the brightest star.

Ventus makes a noise of consideration. “I guess I’m going on vacation.”

After that Riku has to field several questions, accusations, and demands from Aqua and Terra, all of which he does not answer, maintaining that even if he told them more about his reality, it wouldn’t do them any good. Eventually, they’re forced to give up at Ventus’ cajoling, and Riku is able to leave the Land of Departure.

* * *

In his darkest moments, when Sora had still been asleep in the pod and Riku had been moments away from calling upon power he swore never to use again, he would often think of taking Sora back to Destiny Islands. Of taking away his powers, of leaving him stuck in a world of warm sun and soothing waves. A place where he can be goofy and kind and brave, where his skin will never lose its tan and his freckles can come out in full force. Where his hands would wrap themselves around a surfboard, and not a weapon, where critical wounds would transform into scrapes and bruises from silly misadventures.

It was a selfish wish, of course. He knew that even then, but it wasn’t until now, seeing this Sora that was so clearly wilting away, that he realized exactly how selfish it was.

* * *

When he makes it back to Destiny Islands, Sora is in a complete state of panic.

“You’re back!” he shouts as soon as Riku disembarks from his keyblade, and immediately runs towards him on the beach. Riku doesn’t know how he knew he would land here. Maybe it was just a Sora thing.

“I told you I would be,” Riku laughs, disengaging his armour. “Have I ever lied to you?”

Sora pouts at him. “I’ve only known you for a day,” he parrots his earlier words back at him. “What do I know?”

“Brat,” Riku leans in to smack him, and Sora ducks away with a laugh.

They roughhouse for a bit and Riku has to breathe in for a moment the familiarity of it all. He will have this again, he must. He will find Sora and they'll finally manage to go home together, all three of them. And maybe this time him and Sora will have enough time to figure it out, how to be together and stay together.

"You saw him, didn't you?" this Sora's voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and he looks back at him. Sora isn't looking at him, instead focusing on digging his bare feet in the sand. Riku doesn't have to ask who he is talking about.

"Yeah," he answers. He doesn't really know what he should even say about it.

"You didn't tell him to come back though, right?" Sora is peeking up at him between his bangs. "Cause I don't want that."

Riku huffs. "I don't know what made both of you convinced that he had to make some kind of a choice, between the Keyblade and you."

Sora frowns at him. "Don't say it like that," he whines. "That's embarrassing! And besides, he kinda did? Because if he wants to be a Keyblade Master he had to go to training."

Why can no one in this reality see it? "You could have gone with him."

To his chagrin, Sora just laughs at him. "Me?" he grins, now fully looking at him. "I'm not a Keyblade Wielder!"

To hell with keeping the world order, or reality order, or whatever the hell Yen Sid was talking about. Riku isn't going to let this stand. "You are in my world."

Sora's eyes widens, and the smile drops from his face. "I am?"

"You got your keyblade before I got mine, actually." Well, sort of. No need to go into the details.

"No way!"

"Yes way!" Riku shoots back, hiding a grin. "One of the strongest Wielders there are, in my reality." Riku doesn't need a stupid exam to confirm that, anyway.

There is something so hopeful and longing in Sora's gaze, and Riku doesn't know how his younger self, in this reality or his own, ever thought Sora could be satisfied here on his own. "But I don't have it here."

"Yeah, the circumstances are different," Riku shrugs. "In my world you — well, it's a bit complicated, but basically a Keyblade Wielder named Ventus was being sheltered by your heart. So when things went... wrong, you managed to summon the keyblade. You've been using it since."

Sora gives him a look. "A guy named Ventus was inside my _heart_?"

"You would be surprised by how many times that happens," Riku snorts.

Sora touches the front of his chest with his hand as he looks down, concerned. "You sure he isn't there right now?"

"Don't worry, I met him at the Land of — where Wielders live. Like I said, things are different here." He thinks of Roxas and Xion and Namine, all of whom would probably never exist in this world. Thinks of his own replica. 

"But in your reality..." Sora trails off, contemplating it. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense!" he grins at Riku again, but it looks _wrong_ , somehow. Riku squints at him, distrusting.

"What makes sense?"

"How I would have a keyblade, right? Because of this Ventus person?" Sora explains, "it wasn't really me. And I don't have it here because this Ventus person isn't in my... heart, or whatever." The worst part is that he doesn't even look sad, or disappointed. It's like it perfectly aligns with his worldview: that the universe has looked at him and found him wanting.

"Sora, what the fuck?" Riku blurts out, the shock causing it to come out must blunter than he intends.

Sora has the nerve to just blink at him. "What?"

"You don't believe that," and Riku almost chokes on those words, the echo of that moment in the Keyblade Graveyard threatening to overwhelm him. He hadn't let himself think about it since then, but the image is seared into the deepest parts of him: Sora kneeling on the ground, tears in his eyes, his voice completely defeated. The way his voice trembled as he said all my strength came from them, as if it wasn't the exact opposite of how Riku understood reality.

Has it always been there, this doubt? Where the fuck was Riku, when it began to coalesce inside his friend?

"Riku, are you okay?" he hasn't even noticed Sora coming to stand closer to him, looking at him worriedly. "You look a bit — do you want to sit down?"

"No, I'm fine," he says, his voice sounding weak even to himself. He thought the thing he needed to fix was his younger self, but maybe it wasn't that at all. "Sora, that's not true at all."

Sora lets out a small laugh, scratching at his cheek. "Riku, it's fine— "

"No, it isn't," Riku cuts him off. "Ventus might be why the keyblade originally found you, but — do you even know why Ventus was in your heart?"

"I didn't even know people could be in other people's heart," Sora shakes his head. "Should you even be telling me any of this?"

"It's important," Riku insists. "His heart was very badly damaged by a bad guy. You weren't even born yet but your heart healed him! And later, when his heart needed refuge, your heart sheltered him without complaint, for over _ten years_. That's why the keyblade chose you. That's who you are."

It is hard to see in the cold light of the moon, but Sora seems to be blushing. Still, he persists. "Maybe in your reality, but —"

"In every reality," Riku cuts him off again. "Sora, believe me. In every reality, you are like a— a beacon.” Riku is definitely blushing, and he looks away from Sora for a moment, to gather his bearings. It feels... strange, to be saying all of this to a different Sora than the one he knows, but necessary too. Like he couldn't live for another second without letting it all out. “No matter how dark everything is, how lost I - _we_ are, your heart is always there to guide us. You say other people are where your power comes from, and maybe that’s true. But your heart? The strength of your feelings? That’s been there from the very start. If your friends are your power, you are _ours_.”

A choked sound comes from Sora and when he looks back at him, he sees him furtively trying to wipe away tears. "Sora?!"

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" Sora laughs, even as more tears fall from his eyes. "Riku, I didn't know you were such a _poet_."

Riku blushes. "Shut up." He suddenly feels as though he has been fighting heartless for days, and he half-sits, half-collapses unto the beach. "I can't believe you're like this in every reality."

Sora comes down to sit next to him. There are still a few stray tears making their way down his cheeks, but his eyes seem lighter than they were before. "I thought that was a good thing!"

"It's an annoying thing," Riku corrects him, even as he grins. "You believe me?"

Sora grows quiet, for a moment. "I think..." he says slowly, looking up at the stars above them. "I think it's not something I can believe because someone else says so. But!" he rushes to add at Riku's inhale of breath. "It's something I can work on believing in, now. With... my own strength. Maybe."

"Definitely," Riku waves him off, and Sora smiles at him. "That doesn't mean I can't give you a helping hand though, right?"

"Wasn't that what this whole conversation was?"

"Nah, I can do better than that." Sitting up straighter, he reaches out with a hand and summons his keyblade. Braveheart materialises in front of him, and Sora gasps. "Is that...?"

"Has Riku not shown you his?" Riku frowns at him.

Sora shook his head. "He couldn't summon it yet when he left, but I'm sure he can now!" He leans in closer to scrutiny it. "It's so... shiny."

"Shiny?" Riku asks, affronted. "That's all you have to say?"

Sora looks bashful. "Sorry, I guess it just looks... kind of... boring? Is that what they all look like?"

Riku flings some sand at him. "I'll have you know it's extremely powerful," he informs him haughtily. "But no, keyblades look differently according to their wielder." If only he could see how _shiny_ their combined keyblade looks like!

Sora sputters at the sand and wipes it off. "What does mine look like??"

"Way less cool than mine, don't worry," Riku smirks, and then he has to judge the handful of sand Sora flings at him back. "I guess you'll just have to see!"

Sora pouts at how Riku evaded his attack before he freezes. "What? What do you mean?"

Riku smiles at him, gentler and softer than he could remember being in a very long time. This kid, this version of his best friend, who is so very lonely but willing to bare it for the sake of his best friend— he deserves the world to be gentle to him in return. "Would you like to be a Keyblade Wielder?"

Sora's eyes widen. "I can't—"

"You can," Riku interrupts him. "If you want to — you can."

Riku doesn't miss the way Sora's hand twitches, as if to reach for Braveheart. "But what would Riku say..."

"Oh, he will probably be pissed at first," Riku shakes his head, but doesn't mince his words. "He convinced himself he has to be special to be worthy, and that in order to protect you he has to keep you safe and _contained_ , here."

"He told you that?" Sora's tone is fragile. Everything about this Sora is fragile in a way his Sora isn’t —

But no, that isn’t quite right, is it?

"He didn't have to. I am him, remember? I can understand him better than he understands himself." Riku snorts. "There was a time I thought the same. I tried to take on everything myself, so that I can keep you ignorant and safe. Believe me — that didn't work out."

"Did I kick your ass?"

Riku laughs. "As if you could!" he teases. "We had bigger problems at the time, but he probably wanted to."

Sora laughs. Riku is relieved to hear it go back to almost its regular cadence. They continue to sit together on the calm, quiet beach, Braveheart laid between them like a promise.

Finally, Sora breaks the silence. "What if I'm not good at it?" he asks, his voice small. "What if you're wrong, and there really isn't anything in me, and I can't join Riku and train with him and help him?"

“You would still be enough,” Riku says firmly. “Keyblade or no, magic or no, you would still be you. Your Riku will realise it eventually, too.”

Sora ducks his head, but not before Riku sees him smile. “Thanks, Riku.”

Riku leans over to ruffle his hair. “So, how about it? Ready to be a Keyblade Wielder?”

Sora submits to the hair ruffle with only the minimum of grumblings. “What do I need to do? Do I need to slay some beast? Maybe save a prince or a princess?” he says excitedly, almost vibrating in place. That is more like the Sora he knows — so excited for an adventure. 

“Nah, that’s the advanced stuff,” Riku smirks. He raises Braveheart between them. “Grab it.”

Sora’s eyes widen. “You’re sure?” He slowly reaches with his hands to take the handle from Riku. It’s strange to see a hand so unused to holding a weapon wrapped around one, especially one that Riku knows as well as his own. Strange, to think that a boy who saved the worlds three times over was once this kid, clumsy and careful. Strange, and aching.

For a moment, Riku doubts. Is this his place to do this? Is he not signing up Sora for a lifetime of fighting and pain, for the weight of the world on his shoulders? The Sora he was chasing wouldn’t even be lost if it were not for the keyblade. Him and Riku and Kairi would still be on Destiny Islands, carefree and just children, still. Or maybe even had Riku really managed to simply wake him up and send him back home during that one lonely year, and Sora never had to learn about nobodies, never had to look at people in the eyes and cut them down, convinced they aren’t really _people_. 

“I wouldn’t be happy,” Sora’s voice breaks into his thoughts. He is looking at Riku seriously. “Whatever you’re imagining — I wouldn’t have been happy.”

People give Sora so much shit for being impulsive and naive, as if that translates to stupidity. Riku knows he himself has been guilty of it in the past, and he did have moments of wanting to throttle Donald for some of the things he has said. It was hard to square that with the Sora that could be so intuitive sometimes, who could look at a person to their very core and still see the good in them. The Sora that could look at Riku and in one second read his thoughts and doubts. His stupid thoughts and doubts, because didn’t he go through this just minutes ago? Sora would not be happy or safe on his own, would wilt instead of thrive if placed into a protective bubble. 

He doesn’t know what will happen when he takes Sora to the Land of Departure. He doesn’t know if Aqua really will train him, he doesn’t know if Ventus will go look for Kairi. He doesn’t really know what this Riku’s reaction will be like, although he can give an educated guess. It isn’t his reality, and this isn’t his path to take. 

Inside of him, he can feel the flower that unfurled in him, his renewed certainty that he will find Sora. Above him, there is a version of himself that now has the chance to fix his mistakes without losing his best friend. And next to him there is a version of the boy he loves, one that he is going to save. 

"In your hand, take this key. So long as you have the makings, then through this simple act of taking...its wielder you shall one day be. And you will find me, friend—no ocean will contain you then. No more borders around, or below, or above, so long as you champion the ones you love."


End file.
